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Daydreaming in Traffic III: One Man or Man United
If I close my eyes, it wouldn’t’ change anything. I might even fall asleep on this road. Doctors, what the hell do they know? Expletive deleted doctors, expletive deleted expletive deleted expletive deleted. BE-ee-EP! They are just stupid dreams anyway…it is useless, but it was my idea to go in the first place. He’s just doing his job. Scribble, scribble. I bet he didn’t write shit down, at least anything I was talking about. As upset as that makes me, I really can’t blame him if that were the case. I barely pay attention to myself.
Merry Christmas, right? I mean, it is the season tis the season and of that. I like this time of year, but I don’t love it or hate it either. I am somewhere in the middle. These lights everywhere are kind of nice, but that doesn’t mean I like Christmas just EEEErrrrrrrr That fucker almost hit me! Maybe I should stop staring into the Christmas lights and figure out where I am going. It’s been a long time since I was home, but it’s all relative because I have only been gone for a short time, nothing like the brave Ulysses or even someone who goes to a job for a day. This would be a lot easier if I drove. Everybody tells me that. No shit, right? I know it would be easier, but I can tolerate the inconvenience. I would want a green car, if I got one, though I don’t know why. I really don’t even like the color green, maybe I just saw a car I liked when I was young, or maybe that thought is just there in case anyone ever asks. I would want a nice big green car. Something large and high off of the ground so I could look down at traffic and not feel intimidated by trucks and buses and the sounds they bring. EEEErrrrrrr.
I don’t mind the cold on my cheeks, but my ears are freezing. I should have brought a hat, but I didn’t remember the walk being this long. Maybe I don’t remember anything. That would make sense. Always in a hurry. I never take time to figure out the little things. I just get so excited about what I am going to do that I start to give myself heartburn and I push through until I do what I am looking forward to. Going to a store, a doctor’s appointment, a meeting with a woman; everything I do is based around the idea that I just want to start doing it. Once the idea gets into my head it is all I can think about. I have taken a cab before. Maybe that wouldn’t be a bad idea. I don’t have good money and I need to hang onto the little that is mine. I’d rather eat at home anyway. I’ll be home soon enough. There is nowhere else to go.
Make sense, takes sense, past tense, hop the fence, hop the fence. Trampled under foot, no longer pebbles, but the gentle sound of leaves being crushed, crackling, still wet from the dew. It really should be getting light out. God damn it. Is this Déjà vu? Or does that strictly stick to something you thought happened before? I don’t know what the term is for something that once it happened, you knew it would. It’s not a premonition, because I didn’t see it coming. But this, I thought it would happen just like it did, only after the fact, only after it was past. Seven sounds even, six was short and arrogant; full of taunts. I never saw five, nor do I often get the chance.
Railroad tracks are beautiful, once in a while. I love to see them cut through the wilderness like this. They look just how I imagine them to have when trains were first invented. It had to be an unusual sight for people of the era. In fact, I bet it was the first thing to produce that large blanket of unnatural white noise. I know it did. Horses are natural, hamming is too, as well as laughter and the wind. The train had to be the first of the intrusive noises. This should make me upset, looking at the tracks, but I enjoy the chain of cars, trains, trucks, and airplanes. But I am used to it. I was born with these things surrounding me at all times. Back when the train first made its appearance, there was nothing of the sort. People back then must have been well aware every time a train came near. I forgot to take church bells into account, but they are intentional and musical, not accidental, though they seem more out of place in this day and age than the train.
My strides shorten and the severity of my walking pace slows slightly. The sight of dawn approaching isn’t bringing anything I thought it would. Its resilience is making me feel defeat as if I should just push some snow to the side and nestle up in a little bank under a tree. California, here I come. One way or another. It does not matter anymore. I will be fine in the cold for the rest of my life. This is all in my head. It is probably at least forty degrees, in here. That is not really too cold. When the sun rises, the temperature will rise as well.
Merry Christmas, right? I mean, it is the season tis the season and of that. I like this time of year, but I don’t love it or hate it either. I am somewhere in the middle. These lights everywhere are kind of nice, but that doesn’t mean I like Christmas just EEEErrrrrrrr That fucker almost hit me! Maybe I should stop staring into the Christmas lights and figure out where I am going. It’s been a long time since I was home, but it’s all relative because I have only been gone for a short time, nothing like the brave Ulysses or even someone who goes to a job for a day. This would be a lot easier if I drove. Everybody tells me that. No shit, right? I know it would be easier, but I can tolerate the inconvenience. I would want a green car, if I got one, though I don’t know why. I really don’t even like the color green, maybe I just saw a car I liked when I was young, or maybe that thought is just there in case anyone ever asks. I would want a nice big green car. Something large and high off of the ground so I could look down at traffic and not feel intimidated by trucks and buses and the sounds they bring. EEEErrrrrrr.
I don’t mind the cold on my cheeks, but my ears are freezing. I should have brought a hat, but I didn’t remember the walk being this long. Maybe I don’t remember anything. That would make sense. Always in a hurry. I never take time to figure out the little things. I just get so excited about what I am going to do that I start to give myself heartburn and I push through until I do what I am looking forward to. Going to a store, a doctor’s appointment, a meeting with a woman; everything I do is based around the idea that I just want to start doing it. Once the idea gets into my head it is all I can think about. I have taken a cab before. Maybe that wouldn’t be a bad idea. I don’t have good money and I need to hang onto the little that is mine. I’d rather eat at home anyway. I’ll be home soon enough. There is nowhere else to go.
Make sense, takes sense, past tense, hop the fence, hop the fence. Trampled under foot, no longer pebbles, but the gentle sound of leaves being crushed, crackling, still wet from the dew. It really should be getting light out. God damn it. Is this Déjà vu? Or does that strictly stick to something you thought happened before? I don’t know what the term is for something that once it happened, you knew it would. It’s not a premonition, because I didn’t see it coming. But this, I thought it would happen just like it did, only after the fact, only after it was past. Seven sounds even, six was short and arrogant; full of taunts. I never saw five, nor do I often get the chance.
Railroad tracks are beautiful, once in a while. I love to see them cut through the wilderness like this. They look just how I imagine them to have when trains were first invented. It had to be an unusual sight for people of the era. In fact, I bet it was the first thing to produce that large blanket of unnatural white noise. I know it did. Horses are natural, hamming is too, as well as laughter and the wind. The train had to be the first of the intrusive noises. This should make me upset, looking at the tracks, but I enjoy the chain of cars, trains, trucks, and airplanes. But I am used to it. I was born with these things surrounding me at all times. Back when the train first made its appearance, there was nothing of the sort. People back then must have been well aware every time a train came near. I forgot to take church bells into account, but they are intentional and musical, not accidental, though they seem more out of place in this day and age than the train.
My strides shorten and the severity of my walking pace slows slightly. The sight of dawn approaching isn’t bringing anything I thought it would. Its resilience is making me feel defeat as if I should just push some snow to the side and nestle up in a little bank under a tree. California, here I come. One way or another. It does not matter anymore. I will be fine in the cold for the rest of my life. This is all in my head. It is probably at least forty degrees, in here. That is not really too cold. When the sun rises, the temperature will rise as well.
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